


A Lesson in Maturity

by incogneat_oh



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Batdad, Gen, batfamily, brief appearance by Selina Kyle, briefer appearance by OFC, not... exactly crack, weird families bonding weirdly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 01:05:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incogneat_oh/pseuds/incogneat_oh
Summary: In which Bruce just wants everyone to get along.(Written for a prompt, requesting anything with the Batboys + a governess.)





	A Lesson in Maturity

–  
It starts, as these things often do, with an argument.   
  
The boys had all slammed off, separately, to their rooms, (sans Tim, whose door had closed with typical quietness). They are sulking and furious and hurt and annoyed, respectively.   
  
Bruce, mostly used to the fallings-out of his boys, thinks next to nothing about it. But Selina, (smiling far too amused a smile for someone who had sat through the tense meal that was, sadly, the current norm at the Wayne household), says, “Bruce honey, one of these days your kittens will claw each other to death. They’re half-feral.”  
  
Bruce hums noncommittally, which Selina takes as a cue to continue.  
  
“You need to find them a sitter. Someone to teach them…” she pauses, runs her tongue over her teeth, and grins. “Appropriate behaviour.”   
  
Bruce just hums again, slightly longer this time. But there’s the glimmer of something in his eye, the beginnings of a plan, that makes Selina roll her eyes and lean in to kiss him.  
–  
  
“Forgive me, Mr. Wayne. I was under the impression your… ah, wards, were mostly…”   
  
“Grown up?”  
  
“Well, yes.”  
  
“They are in need of a governess.” Brucie smiles, but it has a hint of steel in it.  
  
“Perhaps the youngest–”  
  
“I’m afraid, Ms. Kirkman, it is all or nothing in this case.”  
  
“I do not typically work with adults, Mr. Wayne.”  
  
“I have complete faith in your abilities, Ms. Kirkman.” Bruce beams, takes her hand and shakes it before she can quite realise it. “So that’s settled, then.”  
  
The woman looks faintly dazed as Bruce buzzes for Alfred to fetch the children.  
  
–  
  
The boys file into the study, one after the other. Damian’s still scowling, Jason’s still glowering, and there’s something furious in the set of Dick’s jaw. Tim’s face is devoid of expression, which is a bad sign.  
  
They mostly perk up when they see the guest hovering by Bruce’s desk. Dick’s expression twitches into a slight smile, Tim’s to polite interest. Jason’s eyebrows lift, fractionally, and the corners of Damian’s mouth lift into something more neutral. They are well-trained.  
  
“Hello, boys,” Brucie booms cheerfully, catches the lightning fast wince that ripples over their faces, like some sort of Mexican wave. They hate Brucie. “I’d like you to say hello to Ms. Kirkman.”   
  
She moves to shake hands, as Bruce introduces, “My sons, Dick–” murmurs a greeting, smile moving to something a bit more flirtatious, hand lingering in her grip, “–Jason–” a polite nod, pose softening to something less threatening to shake, “–Tim–” all business, WE smile on his face, “And Damian.” The boy sticks out his hand, but Ms. Kirkman smiles and  _ruffles his hair_. He barely swallows his growl, and Dick has to stifle a snicker.   
  
“Ms. Kirkman is taking a position here,” Bruce says happily.  
  
Surprise flickers over his boys’ features.   
  
“In what capacity, may I ask?” Tim asks. Hesitant. He shoots Bruce a slightly bewildered look when Ms. Kirkman turns back to him.   
  
“She will be your governess.”  
  
“Damian’s getting a governess?” Jason eyebrows shoot up.  
  
“You misunderstand me,” Bruce says pleasantly, but the warning is clear. “She will be governess to  _all of you_.”  
  
“What?!” four voices chorus, in various stages of disbelief.   
  
And Bruce just smiles, because his sons are already agreeing more.   
  
–  
  
“A  _governess_?” Dick says, hands on hips. “ _Really_ , B? And how is this possibly a good idea?”  
  
“A glorified babysitter,” Damian scoffs, at the same time. “Father, I will not be a party to this. It’s humiliating.”   
  
“Fucking ridiculous,” Jason says, over the top of them both. “You can’t be serious.”   
  
“Shut up,” Bruce says.  
  
Silence falls.   
  
“Wonderful,” Bruce says, flat. “It’s come to my attention recently that you boys can’t even be in the same room as one another without disagreeing _– loudly–_  on just about everything.”   
  
“If Alfred can’t stop us arguing,” Tim says, face pinched up in concern. “What makes you think this Kirkman woman could?”  
  
“Alfred also has a day job,” Bruce says coldly, and suddenly no one will meet his eyes.   
  
“Okay, Bruce,” Dick says wearily. “You’ve made your point. We’ll make an effort to get along better. It’s a good threat, okay? We really don’t want you to call a governess on us.”  
  
“This is no threat, Dick,” Bruce says. “Do I look like a man who’s bluffing?”  
  
“But–”   
  
“Ms. Kirkman’s duties begin tomorrow, and I will expect you all to be accommodating.” His tone brooks no argument, (but vigilantes have never been known for their sense of self-preservation).   
  
“I’m 21 years old!” Jason protests loudly. “And I barely even live here!”  
  
“ _25_ ,” Dick yells, pointing furiously at himself. “Bruce, you can’t seriously–”  
  
“I think you’ll find, Dick,” Bruce says, only it’s mostly Batman and all four of them shrink down a little bit. “That I can, seriously. Now get out.”   
  
“But Father–!”   
  
“ _All of you_.”   
  
They exit pretty quick, after that. Bruce can hear their voices all the way down the hall.   
  
“He's… joking, right?” he hears Damian ask.   
  
“I don’t think so.” That’s Dick, ponderous. Confused. “But at the same time, I mean…”  
  
“Old man’s finally off his nut.” Jason, obviously. “He’s fucking snapped.”  
  
“Timmy, don’t look so maudlin,” Dick again. “Maybe we’ll get to do colouring pages.”  
  
Jason’s snort of laughter lingers after the other voices are gone.   
  
–  
  
It’s exactly a week later when Bruce hears them outside his office. Hissing whispers and hushed arguments.  
  
Bruce focusses on the computer. He’s sure they’ll come in when they’re ready.   
  
It takes a few minutes before the door opens and Dick stumbles in, as if pushed. He rights himself and glares at the door, closed now, before turning to Bruce and plastering a smile on his face.  
  
“Hello,” he says sweetly.   
  
“Dick,” Bruce acknowledges, without looking up.   
  
“I wonder if we might, um, have a talk?” Dick says, still with slightly strained smile.  
  
“Of course, Dick,” Bruce says courteously.  
  
There’s an awkward pause, for a few moments.  
  
“We don’t want a governess anymore,” Dick blurts.   
  
Bruce sits back fractionally. An eyebrow rises.  
  
“Um, hear me out,” Dick sticks his hands out. “So B, not only do we, uh,  _already have an education_ , I– we– just feel that a governess is maybe not the best choice for us. You know.  _Emotionally_.”   
  
Bruce’s mouth twitches downward, fractionally. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Dick.” He sounds sincere. He  _looks_  sincere, but  _he isn’t._  
   
Dick swallows, because sometimes a conversation with Bruce is like the goddamn finals of the World Poker Championship, but it’s  _impossible to win_. He continues, “Well. Out of all of us, the one most familiar with governesses and other household staff would have to be Timmy– and, I just.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth and goes for it. “I don’t think he’s dealing with it very well, you know. Horrible memories of being foisted off onto anyone, really, by people who are  _supposed_  to love him but are otherwise occupied.” Pointed, this time, significant glances in Bruce’s direction. “I just think it’s terrible for him. Like, emotionally scarring. But you know Tim, he’d never say it to your face.”   
  
Bruce’s expression doesn’t change. Not even minutely. “Tim can handle it.”  
  
There’s a sudden scuffle of noise from outside the door, Jason’s distinctive laugh, followed by, “Shit, pretender, he really  _doesn’t_  care about you at all.”   
  
Damian’s hissed, “Shut  _up_ , Todd!” and a yelp of pain follow.   
  
Dick pretends to be oblivious to the noise outside. “Oh-kay. Um. Damian really could use some more quality time with you, uh, he–”  
  
“Next point.” Bruce is unfazed.  
  
“We’re adults–”  
  
“Irrelevant. Go on.”  
  
“It’s impractical,” Dick is floundering now. “We’re all at different ages, and, you know, nothing against Ms. Kirkman but we actually know more than she does about, well, everything, and– and, we gave it a try–”  
  
The door opens again, Damian stalking inside. He ignores the hisses outside of “ _Damian_ –” and “ _Troll you get back here goddamn_ ”, stomps toward the desk, and glowers. “Father,” he says, hands on hips.   
  
“Jason, Tim, inside please,” Bruce says.   
  
They skulk in, shoulders slumped. Neither will look him in the eye.   
  
“Father, it’s  _stupid_ ,” Damian bursts out, frustrated. “Do you know how much time is being wasted when we could be training? All because that insidious woman doesn’t know the secret!”   
  
“What secret is that, Damian?” Bruce asks mildly, and really, he looks far too amused by all of this.  
  
“Really, Father? We’re playing this game, are we?” Damian sniffs. He opens his mouth wide, starts to bellow " _MY FATHER IS B–_ “  
  
Dick slams a hand over his mouth and drags him against his side, sighing. "Now that’s just plain irresponsible.”  
  
“My father is Batman,” Damian mumbles petulantly, when Dick loosens his hand, and Dick smiles fondly, petting his hair.  
  
“He sure is, li'l D.”   
  
Bruce, evidently unmoved by this display, says, “Is that all?”   
  
“Training is important,” Damian scowls, pulling away from Dick.  
  
“You know what’s more important than training?” Bruce asks, staring down each of his sons.  
  
“… breakfast?” Tim hazards, and Jason snickers.  
  
“ _Teamwork_. Kirkman stays until I say otherwise.” He clasps his hands and slowly settles them on the desk in front of him. “Do I make myself clear?”  
  
“Yes sir,” says Dick, defeated.  
  
“Yeah,” Jason mutters, pissed off.  
  
“Yes sir,” Tim whispers, and Bruce actually does feel briefly guilty at his expression.  
  
“Very well, Father,” Damian agrees stiffly, reluctantly, and they all trail out the door.  
  
–  
  
“So what do we do now?” Jason demands. “We can’t just… deal with this shit.”  
  
“I just don’t get his endgame,” Dick sighs. “I hate when he’s like this. It’s like playing chess in the dark, only he’s disguised all the pieces and changed all the rules.”  
  
“Pennyworth made it perfectly clear we are not to drive the Kirkman woman away,” Damian says, sagging to lean against the wall. He’s exhausted. He’s never had to pretend to be normal for this long without a break before. “Can’t we just kill her?”   
  
“We’ll call that the last resort, Dami,” Dick says.   
  
“Jesus,” Jason says, sliding to the floor beside Damian. He stares at the ceiling. “The fuck is Bruce thinking?”  
  
There is a long pause. As one, it seems, everyone looks at Tim.  
  
“Um,” he licks his lips, shifts subtly to a slightly more defensive posture. “Yes?”  
  
“C'mon, baby b,” Jay says, eyes wide. How did no one think of that?  
  
“What?” Tim snaps.   
  
“You think the most like Bruce,” Dick says, apologetic but a bit pleading. “What do you think he’s up to? How do we get out of this?”  
  
Tim ponders for a long time. He even starts to pace, and Jason obligingly shifts his legs to give him a wider circle. Twice Damian goes to speak, and twice he’s gently shushed by Dick.   
  
Eventually Tim halts, settles his shoulders against the opposite wall. “I think–” he starts. He clears his throat, lowers his head uncomfortably. “If it were me, I mean. I think… he’s trying to give us a common enemy.”  
  
“…Kirkman?” Dick frowns. “She’s not a bad person–”  
  
But Tim’s shaking his head, smiling grimly. “Himself.”  
  
–  
  
In the study, video feed playing across his laptop screen, Bruce watches.  
  
And he grins.  
  
 **-THE END-**

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [tumblr.](http://incogneat-oh.tumblr.com/post/15820059497/a-lesson-in-maturity)


End file.
